The Landfill
by Flutiez
Summary: This thing is just a collection of drabbles. Welcome me to the fandom of Gorillaz as politely as you can, my fellow fangirls! I'll upload when I want to, and this all I got right now, so here ya go! Rating varies, depending on Murdoc script time. Enjoy.
1. Spread The Love

Many of the first real frights I ever had were after I had joined Gorlliaz; those boys are not like anything anyone would ever see, let me tell you. For all those images from seeing Murdoc without a shirt on (or even without pants on) for the first time to seeing Del escape poor Russel's body in a way that looked rather painful, I flinched.

Luckily, the first scare-out-of-my pants wasn't that horrifying of an occasion. It was the first time I saw 2-D having one of his head-cracking migraines. The memory is so deathly clear in my head: The sound of him moaning and crying in pain from his sleep, the way his face contorted in agony, how so tightly he clutched both sides of his damaged head that his knuckles turned white.

The whole thing woke me from my own sleep. It happened in a flash, the loud moan snapping me from slumber like a slap to the face I could not feel. My heart began to pound; that voice wasn't familiar, yet it told me somehow that one of the boys were in trouble. I was only eleven when this happened, I didn't have that much of a sense of danger.

I slipped from bed and strode into the hall. I had martial arts on my side, and if anyone thought they could just break into our house, they had another thing com—

"_Ohhhhhnnnrrrrgssshhhhhh_. . . ."

My feet silently striding by 2-D's bedroom door, I had found the source of the noise. Moans of pain came from behind that wooden slab, churning through my eardrums to create fear and worry and anger all at once.

Fingers, _my_ fingers, strangely, suddenly clasp around the doorknob. They were just up there in a muscle-less rush. I opened the door to see a large mass writhing underneath the crinkling sheets. Of course, this scared me even more, considering I didn't even know 2-D had migraines nearly every day. I can even remember our practice sessions, when the boy with a serious face would get up and swallow a few pills dry. He only had on that face when he was having one.

Seeing the mass flipping all about in the bed made me grow not only scared, but curious, too. I tip-toed over to it, and then I nudged it in the side. I still had martial arts, baby: I wasn't _that_ scared. What sent all the terror running through me wasn't the noise that sounded close to a monster; it was just the idea that one of my nakama was in agony and there was nothing I could really do to help.

2-D flipped over and what I saw made my skin crawl: A snarling nose, black voids flaming with anger and pain, fingers straining to keep the ache under control through gripping his head like it was the edge for dear life.

That didn't look like my Toochi at all.

"T-Toochi," I stuttered nervously when we made eye contact. He smiled at me then, as if trying to convince me he wasn't going through something that made him want to do nothing more but take a hammer and smash his head to bits and end it all. That smile . . . it sent ice down my spine. So . . . strained. Psychotic, almost.

"Noodle-luv." 2-D's voice was raspy and crisp. I can still remember how his voice wafted around my ears like the dry crack of fire. "I-I can't . . . talk right now, I . . . go to bed, Noodle." He touched my cheek with his large hand, pleading me to leave with a smile.

I knew that whenever 2-D had on that kind of face that the pills he took made him all better. If he took those pills now, then maybe he wouldn't be feeling all this? Maybe he could tuck me into bed a second time? Yeah! That sounded great! I got up and had begun looking around when I saw them: sitting on his nightstand just waiting to be swallowed.

Let's see: When 2-D had a headache, he took two. But this headache looked a lot worse, so maybe four would be good? I grabbed the bottle and tried to open it, but I couldn't. Later I would learn the thing was child proof, and that I didn't press the sides of the cap inward while turning it so it could pop open. Of course, there would be plenty more nights like this one where I would have to help out 2-D, so next time wouldn't take so long.

"Noodle!" 2-D moaned. He literally looked like he would die from the pain, just vanish from existence when the straining torture inside his brain that was so up-wound, it finally snapped. I hated seeing him like this, hated seeing him so weak and vulnerable. He was the adult, he had to be the strong one. He was my Toochi, I couldn't lose him. I didn't know what I'd do if I did.

But then in one swift wave of his arm, the bottle was gone from my grasp and in his. 2-D popped the cap easy and swallowed two dry, the same amount as before, as always. That made no sense to me at all at that moment, but like I said: I would learn.

"Go bac' tah bed Noods," he whispered in that dry way again. I had never heard 2-D when he was this tired. I tried to tug on his sleeve and ask in my way for him to come and tuck me in, but there was no sleeve to tug: just 2-D's soft skin and young muscles of a twenty-two-year-old.

But he still slipped from bed in nothing but zombie-movie pajama bottoms, and picked me up. He carried me back to my room and placed me in bed in a speedy rush; the pills had not yet taken effect, I know now. With the moonlight glowing like the entity of a ghost off his light-skinned face, he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. Only this time it felt different, like it was synthetic . . . like it was _fake_.

"Good night, Noodle-luv," he whispered lovingly, the words petting my eardrum like a child pets a kitten. Without waiting to hear my Japanese good-night, the blue-haired man left me alone in the dark, a thin shadow escaping down the hall, sighing in both relief and

Even though it was, like, three in the morning, I would still be contemplating what I had just witnessed for what felt like another three hours. How could someone like 2-D be so sensitive and seemingly weak and go through all that pain? How was he able to feel like his head was about to split open without screeching at the top of his lungs?

I would find out the next day, actually, when 2-D would put me on his lap mid-day and told me that he fell out of a tree when he was little, and that he had those terrible headaches (that slowly became migraines if no painkillers were given) on a daily bases. He apologized for waking me up from my sleep the previous night, then patted me on the head before going to practice his keyboard.

But he also said this, and even though I didn't understand it well back then, I learned that it held more meaning to it than anything else he'd ever said to me before: "Ho'ever, evah since yew showed up, Noods, thah headache's haven't been so bad! It's like thah love that yah spread pushed away the pain a li'l!"

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**I hate the beginning and ending. 'Nuff said.**

**Anway, let me introduce myself: I'm Taka-The-Electric. Duh. I've just recently become a fan of this freaking awesome band: The cartoons, the music (of course), the characters, the fandom, the storyboard, EVERYTHING. 2-D is my favorite, so I like to write about him (he's soooooo ). I enjoy writing for the 2-DXNoodle couple, because I think it is the cutest freaking couple I've ever supported. Seriously, I know they're twelve years apart, but does age really matter? She's twenty-one now and he's thirty-three. I think they could have a good relationship: Both are sweet and kind to others, though Noodle is more lively and open to the world in a fearless way rather than 2-D, who is quiet and doesn't have much confidence.**

**Oh, and Russel and Murdoc are alright, too XD**

**Anyway, I actually heard one of their songs, Feel Good Inc. when I was about six and it first came out. I loved the music, but the animation of the music video scared the living HELL out of me. 2-D scared me the most. But now I realize how beautiful and amazing the band truly is, and when I learned that it was connected to a scared piece of my childhood, I couldn't help but smile :) Now, 2-D's voice is like a paradise for my ears, so soothing and makes me feel like nothing else matters in the world.**

**Also I'll upload to this thing I've got here whenever I think up some kind of 2-DXNoodle or the whole group of Gorillaz thing to write about. Hope you like the title, 'cause dis is where all the junk in my head is goin', ya'll. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks a bunchies.**

**Taka out~030**


	2. Smoke Feels Numb

**A/N: I wrote this at 2:30 a.m. Didn't upload till' now because of reasons. Just read the darn thing, kay? Good :)**

* * *

Thoughts and memories flowed throughout his mind like the smoke with which he blew from his lips. The sweet rush the nicotine brought to his body made him sigh tiredly. No Murdoc, Russel, Noodle, nope. Just him, no one else. He found he liked that.

He was humming _Feel good Inc. _to himself now, absent-mindedly. He wondered if all this smoking would ever leave him with lung cancer and a broken career. Eh, who really cared? What happened, happened. He was too hooked on them so-called _death stix _to quit them now. It was just a matter of choice in one's life how things like health turned out, and he chose the considerably questionable path for that, but it didn't really matter to him.

Because really, what else besides playing keyboard or singing alone in the studio could bring him complete relaxation? Well, there was talking to Mum or Dad over the phone, or spending some silent practice time with Noods. His mind was drifting off to somewhere else again, off into the direction of the gray sky and cold, whistling wind when he heard footsteps behind him and the crack of another light sparking. Murdoc.

"Hey, Faceache," the green-skinned man greeted casually. "How goes it today?" Murdoc took a long drag from the cigarette, staring off into who-knew-where just like 2-D.

The younger man regarded him with a shrug. "Meh. Awlright, I guess. Just out here wit mah thoughts." 2-D imitated Murdoc's previous action and blew out another tube of smoke. It reminded him of his younger years; when he loved to see his own breath during winter.

Murdoc simply snickered in response, "Heh, you have _thoughts_? Wow, tha's a bit of a shokeh fah meh!" The rude man shook his head, smiling toothily at his own joke.

Another stab of frustration, another hard swallow.

2-D rolled his shoulders, feeling a sudden surge of pain emanating from his shoulder blade where there adorned a black and purple bruise: A mark left by an incident during one of Murdoc's drunken nights. 2-D had made the slight mistake of rushing Noodle to her room and locking the door to hide her there and making too much noise in the process.

Another reason for the smokes: To handle all that abuse. Ever since meeting Murdoc, they had been hard to avoid. As if the bullying at school for being whip-lash thin and having natural blue hair and being not very intelligent wasn't enough. Sometimes 2-D had thoughts of payback . . . but he knew he'd never get away with that.

"Actually, yeah," 2-D countered, sounding casual and unhurt, "I do. Jus' thinkin' about home and the family and, ya know, things like that. Wot's Russel and Noodle doin'?" He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, letting his cigarette bop around in his mouth when he talked.

Murdoc, annoyed, said, "I dunno. Seriously, why are those two togethah all the time?" The bassist threw his hands up in exasperation. 2-D had to agree with that. He sometimes felt uneasy for reasons unknown that Noodle loved to be around Russel so much. He imagined that she had some sort of instinctive drawing towards him for the fact that he was the most responsible of them all, and the poor girl just wanted to feel safe.

Instead of using his own definition, 2-D stated, "'Guess Noodle just likes him more." He turned his head away as to not let Murdoc see the growing anger on 2-D's face. The last thing he needed was that bast—wait, he meant _jerk_—knowing how much he wanted Noodle to be with him other than Russel. 2-D mentally kicked himself for thinking that again, because once again that one question was a straight line than the others: _Why can't she just be older?_

No, he couldn't let himself get angry. After, he wasn't happy; he was glad! And he had sunshine in a freaking bag, didn't he?

With a sigh, 2-D turned and left the gravel and the gray sky and swirls of smoke all around him and went to his room. Murdoc didn't make any notice that 2-D was clearly off about something, but that was no different than from most days.

Splaying himself across his bed, 2-D tried hard not to let the tears come. Why was it that life was so difficult for him today? What happened that caused him to act this way? Was it the weather? The climate? He just didn't know.

The cigs wouldn't help this time, but a good nap would. Maybe later he'd go see his li'l love, his li'l love that was just out of his reach by about twelve years.

However, when he was just beginning to feel his eyes droop, he felt the springs on his bed compress instead: Someone was sitting on the foot of the bed. The sweet melody of strings of the guitar filled his ears in a beautiful song. It reminded him of cherry blossoms; spring; love; anything gorgeous.

He knew who it was; he didn't even need to look up. With a smile the melody stopped after time was done with standing still; a small bundle curled up next to him and they both fell into a nice mid-day sleep. Life was all good again, and this time, it wasn't because of those cigarettes. He didn't really need those to feel good.

* * *

**Cyber cookies to those who can figure out what this** **little piece means. I can only imagine how it feels for 2-D to be smitten with a pretty girl, like, twelve years his junior, yeah? People say he wrote a post just like that on his Facebook. I haven't found it, and I won't waste my time doing so. I just saw it somewhere that he did. But when I read it I was all fangirl squealish, and then this sucky fanfic was born. Ta-daaa.**

**Also I read that Noodle says that 2-D smells like Butterscotch-flavored angel delight, and now I want some of whatever that is, but I can't find it in any of my stores. IT SOUNDS SO YUMMY! I LUVS MAH BUTTERSCOTCH! TT^TT**

**So yeah, you all know the drill: R&R and favorite! C'mon, you know you want to press that favorite button . . . -U-**

**Taka out~030**


	3. Zen Bond

**_Zen Bond:_**

The air seemed to be standing still. Clear, crisp, yet so vacant that it stung his nostrils. He wondered if she was feeling the same way, with her eyes closed and her soft face carved to look so calm.

She wondered what he was wondered. And so their thoughts were linked.

_Are you feeling this?_

_Are you?_

_This freedom of the soul? Do you feel it, Toochi-san?_

They couldn't even speak to each other, barely, but feelings could easily speak louder than words.

They were sitting cross-legged, side-by-side, basked in cool sunlight emanating through the thing walls of the dojo. Fingers lightly curled on top of their knees, and no sound heard except for the soft whistles of their breathing.

Peace and love, man. Peace and love. That was what _he_ thought, anyway, though right now his thoughts were more like flailing lines of sheet music flowingly speeding across his brain, not even in it.

Just out there. She was just out there. Her soul was exploring the vast expanses of her spirit. Calmness and purity to all. Calmness and purity. That was what _she_ thought, anyway. Her head lolled downward, suddenly ripped from reality and shown to a bright light before re-connecting herself to the process of calming the soul.

He, on the other hand, felt his knees were about to rip at the tendon rather than his soul rip from his existence. His freaking long legs were in near agony. Her furrowed his brows in frustration before letting out a small, sharp breath through his nose that split apart the silence in the room.

She took no notice of it. She knew that this kind of journey took time and patience, though she did pop one eyelid open half-way and glared in his direction. All she saw was a huffed face mostly masked by that blue, spiky hair.

She sighed and closed her eye. "Toochi-san relaxed?"

She could feel him shake his head. "Nah, Noods."

"This take time."

"Mmm . . . "

No one could tell how much time had passed until he felt it, that ringing sensation of your soul calming itself. To him, it felt like the heavy beat of dance music in a club vibrating in one's ribcage in reverse. His spine tingled at the feeling. His shoulders slumped.

Time passed again, and somehow with lack of concentration he was brought back to the stress of the Earth. His breath caught, and he looked at Noodle, panting. He'd done it: His first journey had been completed. He wanted to tell her that so badly, but the way her peaceful expression showed off pure happiness at the same time, he let her be.

However, being him, he grew a little bored out of his head after who knew how long passed. "Psst. 'Ey, Noods, wanna go play some video games?" He smiled at her innocently though he knew she couldn't see it.

She knew what those two words meant, _video_ and _games_. She bit her lip, not knowing whether she wanted to stay or go with him to watch a colorful box chew away at her breain cells. Again, she let out a breath of tiresome and exasperation.

"Okay, Toochi-san."

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**Hey guys. Sorry I haven't uploaded in awhile. But I hope you enjoyed this: It's just something short and sweet ^^**

**There'so much other stuff I want to say right now but I'm too lazy and tired to type it all. You know the usual: R&R please.**

**Taka out~;3**


	4. Ten Songs

**1.) If Today Was Your Last Day—Nickelback**

He could see the light, could see the glimmer of the Golden Gates welcoming him with angels and harps. But he turned the other direction in the tunnel to Heaven from tuging screams. Their screams.

_Come back to us._

_We need you._

_C'mon, 'D. Don't leave us now. _

A spiral through darkness and wind, landing with a hard thud back into the world of the living—the evil, cruel world of the living—brought him back lying on that hospital bed with a mask over his mouth and a skeletal IV standing next to him.

Small fingers laced with his, and he pulled every amount of effort his body would allow him to have in order to turn his head groggily on the pillow to see who was there next to him. It was her. She was here, with tears visible on her soft pale cheeks and a bleeding lip.

"Don't leave us," she choked, "you can't. Don't you ever do something as stupid as that again, do you understand me?"

He was able to understand that like it was a distant call; nearly unheard. He nodded. "Yeah, luv. I won' leave yah." He smiled, chuckling to himself. The drugs the doctors had given him were making him loopy. "Jeez, wot a day, yeah?"

"Yes," she replied, squeezing his hand ever tighter, hurting him. The pain took a minute to be messaged from his brain to his actual hand. "And it could have been your last."

* * *

**2.) Kids With Guns—Gorillaz**

She had such magnificent aim. Black and red blood together splattered across the dark wall, shining from the moonlight. Those walking corpses went down quickly, one by one when she brought out that rifle.

With each click of the gun, a bullet shell dropping from some opening that he didn't know where, the zombies turned their slow, jaw-hanging heads to look at her. At the sight of her tasty-looking flesh, they started their way toward her.

He went to help her, but was stopped when a series of booms ripped his ear drums apart. She didn't fly backward from the resolve, and those zombies' green-gray heads exploded, bits of skull and brain flying everywhere. Some of them landed on his arms, his face, and he held back a scream trying to get the slimy pieces of body parts off of him.

Even though she was shooting them, she didn't look phased or dirty whatsoever. She was a kid with a gun, for God's sake, and no one was ridiculing her about it because she was the one kicking the most ass. Without her, thr group might have been a zombies' all-you-can-eat-buffet.

And he found it strangely sexy.

* * *

**3.) Big Green Tractor—Jason Aldean**

Her bottom settled itself comfortingly on his lap, leaning backward to see his grinning face. There was something about that one face he made that made her feel he knew more about life and everything else better than she did.

He started singing; it was some kind of country song she'd never heard before. But he made it sound familiar and comforting with his angel-like voice. She put her fluffy violet head on his chest, feeling it rising and falling with each breath he took.

Suddenly she felt courageous, wanting nothing more than to touch him, know he was really there and that this wasn't just another dream. She pulled herself up and pecked his cheek with her lips. He blushed crazily, and she did, too. She swung her arms around his neck, and he placed his on her waist.

Russel was probably going to kill him if he found out about this, but that was the thing, though: What someone didn't know didn't hurt them.

* * *

**4.) Blow—Ke$ha**

It was her first real party without cake, and she was there with all her guys. Murdoc was already drunk near to death and Russel was helping the frustrated, prideful DJ pick out some 'better' tracks to play.

So it was just her and him, dancing like morons to the techno, to the dance music, the dubstep, anything that came on. Flashing lights turned 2-D's hair multiple colors, and when she saw his hair flash pink for no more than a second, she burst out laughing.

She loved all of this: The way her body moved without her really telling it to, the musty, alcoholic scent of the club, the way 2-D was now swinging with her hips in perfect motion, though dangerously close as he was.

She hoped he was drunk himself, because she knew he probably wouldn't want to remember what he was doing right now in the morning.

* * *

**5.) Rockstar—Nickelback**

He had everything any person could only ever dream of having, but he still felt so empty. Maybe it was because she was gone. Life was just going by in a haze, like a car whizzing by. It's there, then it's gone. Yeah, that was how it was. Life was like a car going faster than a hundred miles per hour.

He hadn't been eating much since he got the news. He felt no need to. And with each meal Russel brought him as well as friendly, caring plea that 2-D needed to eat it all, he just stared off into the wall. What was the point of taking care of himself when the person who had been his only reason for living was now dead?

And with each performance since then, he'd despised his fans more than anything that they couldn't know the truth about her. That they wouldn't understand.

That they didn't know the pain he was going through right now.

The life of a rock star wasn't as great as people said it was. Those people had no hearts, people like Murdoc.

Sometimes 2-D thought about wasting away into nothing. At least then he could finally get what he wanted: To be with Noodle.

* * *

**6.) Rock The House—Gorillaz**

Noodle found it very amusing to watch 2-D put on a determined face. With his left hand holding his right wrist behind his back and his smile slowly fading and his blue hair masking his dark holes for eyes, she was pretty sure he just made that face to make her laugh.

It was better looking at him than looking at Murdoc for _this_ video. Ew.

And 2-D found it unbelievingly adorable the way she was dressed, with her helmet and cute white shorts. It just made him want to curl up on the floor and laugh until his ribs were broken.

It was fun to screw up sometimes. 2-D and Noodle stopped their roles in the video to just rock the house and dance in the middle of that white nothingness. Sure, it earned them a yelling-to from Murdoc, but it really was worth it.

* * *

**7.) Breaking The Habit—Linkin Park**

Noodle hadn't been the same since arriving back from Hell. Sometimes she woke up from nightmares, crawling to the darkest corner of her room, rocking back and forth, back and forth . . .

Other times she sneaked into his room for comfort. He allowed her in without hesitation or thought of getting into trouble. He knew she had not-so-great memories of the most evil place man knew of and needed someone, so what was wrong with wanting to allow a girl twelve years his junior to sleep in the same bed with him?

Very wrong, apparently.

So instead they usually stayed up, making beverages like tea and hot chocolate and just talking the night and the stars away. It was paradise, though they disliked the ringing of their ears around noon each day from staying up the entire time the night before as well as their heads feeling like overly-inflated balloons with a light headache.

He sung her songs, they read together, laughed and told jokes, hugged and touched, falling asleep in each other's arms until the gray light of dawn filled his room.

And soon her habit was broken.

* * *

**8.) Better Than Me—Hinder**

It was true. She didn't deserve a dullard like him, as that new guy she'd been going out with for the past few weeks told him over and over again. 2-D didn't really listen,—he knew his place the first time told—he just blew out a little more smoke on 'accident' into that guy's face.

"I know tha'," he replied sometimes, "but I wont yew to know tha' if yew evah fink she is too good for yah, then yew have prolly finked the smartest fing in your life."

He received a good punch in the face from that statement.

The blunette didn't need that new jackass, Ryan, with whom Noodle insisted on being in love with telling him that he was too old or too stupid to have a girl like her. 2-D didn't really care, though, because he knew Ryan was just trying to stand his ground on his prey; Noodle.

But he wouldn't stand for that, no sir. 2-D wouldn't let this dud of a good guy who was obviously bad news take her over like she was his property. And when 2-D found she had a new bruise on her upper that she had failed to cover up with her shirt sleeve, Ryan was punched, kicked, and beaten out of the house faster than one could say 'Winnebago'.

She thanked him with a full kiss on the lips, and she tasted like innocence did, but he pulled away like he pulled away during those nights they spent together just after her return from Hell: Softly and gently, but with an obvious message:_ I don't want to ruin you_.

It wasn't that he didn't want her, but he knew she deserved better. Not a dullard like him, that was for sure. He just didn't want her with a guy like that for the rest of her life.

Anyone but Ryan.

Just not 2-D, either.

* * *

**9.)** **Stereo Hearts—Gym Class Heroes ft. Adam Levine**

Their hearts were like a duet: They beat with each other in time.

Noodle brought herself to the conclusion he had a small crush on her, maybe. But if it was true (maybe screw the 'if'), then she would pretend to not notice. He did the same. Anything for them to stay friends.

It wasn't okay with her, and it wasn't okay with him.

It wasn't like either of them to ignore a song when it was playing. They made a song together without instruments, just the love and the admiration and the tension that rose between them like a sky scraper.

And that music was just so _loud_.

* * *

**10.)** **Slow Country—Gorillaz**

He sang that song to her when she was ten as a lullaby. Every night. She would be tucked into her sheets, a smile on her round little face, green eyes shining. She would ask him to sing it to her in the best of English she knew. And he would after complimenting how much better her English was getting.

And every night when he sang her that song, she would kiss him on the cheek. The first time it happened, his cheek had been cupped in his own up-turned palm; eyes closed before she leaned up and pressed her soft little lips on his other cheek.

Surprised as hell, he nearly jumped out of the seat which he pulled up. She giggled at his reaction, making him blush even deeper. He stood up like a stiff old man then walked quickly to the door.

"Good night, Noods," he said with a tone of finality.

She nodded. "Hai, Toochi-san." Then she turned onto her other side and curled into a ball, falling quickly to sleep.

He stayed there at the doorway for a few moments, watching the rise and fall of her tiny body under the sheets. Then he smiled, touching the spot where she kissed him. "_Can't stand your loneliness_," he sang as he walked down the hall.

He heard her sing it after him from behind her bedroom door.

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**Bands/Artists used in this: Nickelback, Linkin Park, Hinder, Gorillaz, Ke$ha, and Jason Aldean.**

**I am so awesome. **

**Not bad for a first try at a Challenge here on , eh? I'm also proud that my first try was with Gorillaz. God, I just love them so freaking much you people would not _believe_. I walked ALL the way down to Hastings to buy the first two albums, and all the way back to my house. It was worth it, too. I have two full albums by Gorillaz on my iPod now. I LOVE Feel Good Inc.; it's one of my favorites, with Dare coming in second. But 5/4 will probably always be my number one favorite, though. **

**And c'mon guys, I really want to know what you think of this fic. Don't be afraid to review. I'm not complaining I'm not getting many reviews, but why CAN'T you guys review, anyway? Wouldn't you guys like to know what your fans think about your writing? I wouldn't change anything about my writing if someone told me I should, but I just . . . I just need to know I'm not wasting ideas here, okay? Don't review if you don't WANT to, but if you do, feel free. And those of you without an account, just remember that you can leave an anonymous review.**

**Oh, and me no own Gorillaz. Though if I did, 2-DXNoodle would be cannon. Just sayin'.**

**Goodbye, my awesome readers.**

**Taka out~;3**


	5. Butterscotch Angel Delight

_Bitter Sweet_

-(~)-

I can only laugh at the memory of my first kiss. It all happened in such an awkward, accidental way, but let me say this: The whole thing was Murdoc's fault. Now, I know what you're thinking: OMG! A forty-somethin'-year-old guy kissed a little girl on the lips? That's against the law!

Well, that's not how it went. I'd rather die than have the thought of kissing Murdoc . . . . Oh, crap, I just thought it. Ew. Anyway, it was about three months after I joined Gorillaz—or, well, after we became a band. They didn't start it without me popping in one day outa nowhere. Heh, another sweet memory. So I was only ten, and everyone else was twenty-two (2-D), twenty-six (Russel), and thirty-six (Murdoc).

I wasn't cautious of any of them, really. I mean, you'd think any ten-year-old girl would be scared out of her mind living with a bunch of men who could easily take advantage of her, right? Ha! Wrong! I had expert martial arts on my side, baby. They never tried anything to begin with, but I was more than ready if they ever did.

So what happened was this: I was bored, I had just practiced my guitar for maybe three hours, and I needed someone to play with me. I wanted somebody to come to the living room with me and play cards or have them tell me a little more about this amazing place called England in the dim gray light spilling out on the couch through the windows. But Russel was cooking lunch at that moment, and I never dared to bother Murdoc with something like child-play. I doubt he ever played with anyone properly as a child.

That left my only option to be 2-D. Now, I absolutely loved 2-D, and I still do. He used to give me piggy-back rides and play his keyboard for me any time I wanted him to, and would even tuck me into bed at night and kiss me on the forehead . . . like he was my mommy.

Oh, and he was my first crush. He just used to make me feel nothing but butterflies inside my stomach, in my chest. 2-D's goofiness just made me melt, and flame with anger whenever Murdoc decided he was being too goofy and he slapped him up-side the head.

The way 2-D nurtured me was enough for me to understand he loved me, too. But his love was different; it was that kind of brotherly or friendly love where he cared about me more than anything but wouldn't stumble over the cliff of love and fall. I mean, he was in his twenties and smoking, and I hadn't even started having those God damn periods yet.

When you think about it, it would have been kinda wrong. If we had anything close to that kind of relationship back then, concerned fans, or even worse—_parents_ of the fans—probably would have called the cops, 2-D would have been arrested and I would have gone to CPS. But I digress.

Anyway, back to the story: I went to 2-D's room to find him playing his keyboard. Headphones were lodged onto his head, nodding to the rhythm of whatever he was playing. I walked over to him and nudged him in the knee gently to get his attention (to be honest, I didn't talk much back then. Yeah, shocker when you were living in Europe and only spoke Japanese).

The black pits that were his eyes jerked down at me and he smiled. "'Ello, Noodle. Wot's up?" He asked me questions even though he knew he wouldn't get that great of an answer. By now, I could read pretty well in English, but couldn't annunciate English words very well.

"Come play with me," I told him rather than asked. Usually he always said yes, hands down. But this time was different: He said no.

And the English word 'no' had yet to be in my vocabulary.

"Sorry, Noods," 2-D replied sincerely, patting my head with his long fingers, "but I'm working on keys fo' a new song right now. Maybe later?" With that he turned and just went back to playing.

What he said was a big a frown, I pulled on the rough fabric of his baggy jeans. "Come play with me!" An idea suddenly sparked in my head at that moment, changing my expression from stern to honey-sweet. "Please?" I had actually just learned to say that word properly in English. Imagine that!

"Noodle." Now he was stern. Pffft, I thought, that's just cute. Because seriously, when is 2-D ever really that serious? But my humorous feelings would be destroyed by what he said next: "I said 'no', and that means 'no'. So why don' you just go and play by yourself, okay? I'm working and I need to focus, now go. Please."

That 2-D! Thinking he could just shrug me off by telling me to leave! How could he? I was not going to have words like that thrown in my face, no sir! When I tried to order him to play with me again, he placed his earphones on the keyboard a bit harder than necessary and pushed me out to the hallway. How dare he . . .?

"Get out and stay out," he told me politely. I pouted, of course. Why was he treating me this way? What had I done wrong? He was the one being mean. What did 2-D think gave him the right to treat the little girl he always took to the park, if he had time, this way? To the little girl who taught him to make some foods from her country or say Japanese words and sentences?

I would not stand for this madness!

As he turned away, I wrapped my finger around the belt loop in his jeans. I pulled, slightly pulling them down and exposing the trim of his boxers. Blush filled my cheeks, but I continued to pull him back to me. The sudden tug caught him off guard.

"NOODLE!" he shouted, embarrassed as his own face and tips of his ears flushed with pink. "DON' DO THA'!" He sounded more shocked than angry all of a sudden.

I continued to pull, swerving around him as he tried to reach behind him and grab me. That was more than fun. Out of all the ruckus, Murdoc must have heard. He stomped down the hall toward us and shouted with anger, "Wot' the hell is goin' on over here?"

As he said this, 2-D's front was turned to him, blocking me from sight. Believe me, Murdoc hung over wasn't a pleasant sight to see, what with him being in nothing but boxers and all. Why did he ever keep himself so rationally dressed in front of a little girl?

2-D looked down at him. "Noodle's causin' tro'ble," he said in a breathless rush. "She's acting this way 'cause I refused to play with her."

"Then why no' jus' play wit' her then?" Murdoc reasoned. I now had a good view of Murdoc, and as usual, it was scarring. "Wot' else are yeh doing tha's so imo'ant?"

"I wos practicin'," 2-D replied nervously, as if he was afraid Murdoc would hit him with his response. Of course, I saw 2-D get beat up by Murdoc, picked on by him, and insulted by him. Back then, I didn't know what to do, honestly: I was a kid from a completely different country and didn't understand half the things the boys said to each other.

But that never stopped me from flinching at the sight of blood on 2-D's face from time to time.

"Luv," Murdoc called to me from in front of 2-D, "I think maybe ya should go and play somewhere else. 2-D may be a dullard, but 'e needs to practice. Understand?"

I still had not let go of 2-D's pants. He turned his blue-haired head back to me, the black voids that were his eyes almost pleading. I remember them saying something like: _Leave now. Before more harm is done._

With much reluctance, I let go. 2-D stood up and turned to me, his towering yet lanky form letting off vibes of heat. I had to cock my head back to the point where I almost fell over just to look up at him. He smiled forgivingly, and ruffled my hair again. We were interrupted by Murdoc ever-so-politely:

"Well, c'mon, Faceache, get back to playin'." Murdoc seemed to have given 2-D a hard shove, and because of the keyboardist's clumsy nature and very tall stature, he fell right on top of me. I was standing maybe three feet in front of him, and so when he descended, it left his face to bump onto mine.

For more than three seconds, his lips had been sloppily connected to my mouth like a puzzle piece that didn't fit into its supposed spot. It was as if adult and child lips were never meant to be touched, a law by nature.

Whatever. It was still awesome.

My face heated up so much that it could have put an erupting volcano to shame. It seemed that 2-D felt the same way, as the blue hair on his head only accented the red on his own face, making it stand out. For a few seconds that felt like hours, we stayed in our very positions.

2-D pulled away from my mouth with a slippery smacking noise. He stared down at me apologetically, though my brain hadn't processed it until later. Right then I was too busy trying to figure what the hell had just happened. 2-D just continued to look down at me, unsure of what to do or say.

Murdoc must have either not noticed or not have cared, because he took 2-D by the collar and shoved him back into his room. The Satanist locked eyes with mine, though they were blocked through shock, and then walked back down the hall toward the kitchen, no doubt headed to the fridge for more beer.

When I finally managed to slowly lift up to reality, my face expressed a smile. I had to keep my hands over my mouth where my pretty-boy crush had unintentionally kissed me, to suppress all the giggles threatening to bubble through. I had just completed the mission every girl had ever worked so hard to succeed at: kissing their one true love. Now beginning to lose control of breathing I was holding back giggles so hard, I had stood up and I staggered over to my room, where I flung myself on the bed and let all those little bugs of laughter escape my throat in a huge giggle-fit.

Later that evening, I was fast asleep in bed when I awoke suddenly. It was one of those awakenings where you don't know how it happened: Your body just senses a presence it doesn't want to be around itself and it alerts you to snap from slumber. Someone was in my room, and just as my heart began to beat faster, I recognized his soothing yet goofy voice whisper in my ear.

"Sorry for wakin' you, luv," whispered 2-D. I immediately felt sleepy again; his tender tone when being comforting had that kind of effect on me. "But I jus' wonted to say sorry for wot happened today. So let's . . . let's jus' pretend like it nevah 'appened, 'kay?"

" . . . uh . . . " was all I could mutter for a reply. My heart had swelled three times its size at the sound of his voice. I couldn't think properly, there was just a blank sheet of paper where my brain should be. I knew he didn't like me the way I liked him, but the way he was speaking to me now was like the intoxication of some seductive lover; so wrong yet so right at the same time. . . I wonder if he knew what effect his angelic tone had on me, when he sometimes sang me lullabies.

"Don't feel scared," he continued. "It was jus' an accident, an' we just have to not dwell on it too much." Then he got up from crouching by the side of my bed. "G'night, Noods."

"Wait!" I whispered and screamed at the same time. It's difficult to see him in the dark, but when my eyes adjust, I stare in wonder at how he can appear so ghostly at night. After a moment of holding my breath, I scatter out of bed and across my room, where I dig through a drawer and pull out a deck of Pokémon cards. I loved those things like you would not believe, and I still do. I have about five hundred of them still.

"2-D-san play?" I question him innocently. Smiling, hoping, I wait for his answer like it's the countdown of a bomb after I've cut the red wire, tensing every muscle to see if either it will explode or shut down.

2-D took a while to answer, but gradually his slightly agape lips swerved into a large grin. "'O course, Angel-love!" He keeps his voice down, hushed so that we are not heard. We turn on one of the purple colored lamps and sit down in the middle of my room, battling each other with different Pokémon and laughing together quietly.

At one point, I take my fingers and press them to my lips, where they are still soft from 2-D's touch.

Mmm . . . sometimes I can still taste butterscotch and cigarette smoke from that kiss.

-(~)-

* * *

**Hi! So yeah . . . I changed my name, mostly because I started reading Homestuck and I just loves it. So it's been four months since I last updated this thing and I guess all I have to say is I'M SORRY.**

**I had this idea in my head for a while; that Noodle's first smooch was completely by accident (and Murdoc's fault. I think he was a tad OOC in this; what do you think?). It seemed pretty cute in my head, and I like how this turned out. R&R please!**


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